


watermelon sugar high

by sashushilda



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley Have Their Picnic (Good Omens), Aziraphale is sweet, Crowley Has Long Hair (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is hungry for Aziraphale, Day At The Beach, Food Kink, Food Porn, Freedom, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, I mean tons of them, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Insecure Aziraphale (Good Omens), Insecure Crowley (Good Omens), LITERALLY, M/M, Metaphors, Not Really That Explicit, Not like in American Pie though, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Romance, Watermelon Sugar High, watermelon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:20:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23699905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sashushilda/pseuds/sashushilda
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley have a seaside picnic accompanied by a ripe watermelon and some alcohol.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 42





	watermelon sugar high

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys. The rating here is explicit, but there is no detailed description of private body parts, nor is there a lengthy description of sex itself. This fic is about the mood and the atmosphere, the build-up to a different life for Aziraphale and Crowley. I'd call it "mild smut" if that's the term.
> 
> Oh yeah, and love/relationship metaphors. I just can't help myself. The thing is packed with them.
> 
> If you look at the tags and see "watermelon" there, mind you that no watermelons were harmed.

It was a wonderful summer day. One that you don't get that much in England - sunny and warm. It wasn't even windy or that kind of hot when you wish for autumn with its rains. It was perfect.

Aziraphale had been waiting for a day like this for quite some time, so as soon as he glanced outside and saw the weather, he picked up the phone and called Crowley. His only wish was to go to the seaside and have a picnic on a beach. As it usually happened, any idea that Aziraphale found particularly good, seemed like utter rubbish to Crowley. They argued over the phone whether it was worth packing and driving all the way to the sea, there was no way they could make it to the beach earlier than 5 in the evening. Aziraphale had to use all of his angelic charm to convince Crowley that it would still be nice and easy to find a free spot on the beach. Crowley muttered _Fine_ and told the angel to get ready.

When Crowley parked the Bentley in front of Aziraphale's shop an hour later, he saw that Aziraphale was already waiting for him on the porch with a big basket and, to his horror, an enormous watermelon.

"What is this, angel?" he said as soon as he came out of the car.

"It's a watermelon! I was walking through the market and just couldn't resist buying it," replied Aziraphale happily.

"You know it's too early for watermelon season? Probably tastes like shit."

"I made sure it's ripe and sweet," the angel smiled back. "Now come and help me put it all in the trunk."

Aziraphale and Crowley were both pretty strong according to human standards, but the watermelon was so big that it didn't fit in Crowley's arms. He rolled it on the top of his foot, raised it slightly, took a hold of both sides and finally lifted it. He could swear not only had Aziraphale ripened it, but also made it twice as big as it originally had been. Now Crowley was standing on the porch with his arms around the green monster which was on the tip of escaping his grip and falling on the ground. And of course his hair, which was shoulder-length now, started getting in his eyes which made it even more irritating. He took a quick look around, made his arms a little longer and hastily ran down the steps to the car, where Aziraphale had already been waiting next to the open trunk. Once Crowley got rid of his cargo, he made his arms normal and tutted.

"What?" asked Aziraphale.

Crowley closed the trunk loudly and shook his hands.

"Don't you think you've overdone it?"

"I just wanted it to be big enough for the both of us," Aziraphale shrugged.

"Thanks for making sure we don't starve, but I think this thing can feed all of Soho."

"Let's go, shall we? Don't want to arrive when it starts getting dark."

Crowley drove slowly with opened front windows to enjoy warm wind caressing their faces. He had to admit it was nice, especially with Aziraphale murmuring some nonsense on the passenger seat. If Crowley hadn’t been driving, he’d have just closed his eyes and tried to live this moment to the fullest. He felt truly free which was difficult to believe after six thousand years of being under Hell’s command.

Aziraphale stopped talking, put his chin on crossed arms and looked out of the window. His white curls fluttered in the wind, they nearly matched thick and fluffy English clouds. Crowley threw a quick secretive glance at the angel and tried to purse his lips, but a smile still escaped them. No good weather, or warm wind, or even the fact that he didn’t have to answer before any of his bosses, could make him as happy as being able to watch Aziraphale _live_. It wasn’t like he hadn’t before, but seeing him uncurl, ease the tension in his shoulders, smile without regrets – that was the life Crowley had been waiting to see in his angel.

Crowley started to breathe deeper and felt his chest tighten. He really did try to keep his feelings at bay since no one was clearly interested in them. But how could he do it when even the bloody wind which got to caress Aziraphale’s face made him jealous? Couldn’t it be Crowley who were to put a palm on the angel’s cheek, feel his warm skin, feel the pressure as Aziraphale would give in to the gesture and rock his head slightly trying to take more from this? Crowley rolled his eyes and started chewing his lip irritably, all these fantasies only led to him being angry with himself. Because once he got carried away, he would always ruin the time they spent together. It happened multiple times with Aziraphale sensing something more than a good friendship require. Crowley was also ashamed that his demonic untamed nature made the angel feel uncomfortable. So he took another deep breath, counted to ten and tried to think of something else. Like hermit crabs.

They arrived at the parking lot next to the beach, Aziraphale opened the door, put his feet on the concrete and started rolling up his trousers. He looked up to find Crowley standing in front of him with a curious look.

“What are you doing?”

“Don’t want these trousers to get all sandy, do I?”

“Don’t you have shorts or something?”

“Where would I wear them, dear?”

Crowley gestured towards the sea.

“We’ve never done it before and today was so spontaneous, I didn’t have time to order anything at the tailor’s.”

“You’re an angel, just miracle yourself something.”

“You know I don’t do it.” Aziraphale shook his head. “Why are you so concerned about my trousers?”

“Didn’t want them to get wrinkled,” Crowley shot out under his breath and turned to take their things out of the trunk. He snapped his fingers as he was walking there and his tight jeans changed into long linen black shorts.

Aziraphale gulped as he saw Crowley’s lean ankles covered in black hair. He looked at his own ankles which were plump and soft, with specks of white fuzz. As much as he loved every second spent with Crowley, he couldn’t help feeling desperate as he compared himself with the demon. Aziraphale wasn’t that much concerned about his body, otherwise he would have changed it to a fitter shape, but there were two things that stopped him from doing so. He was comfortable in his corporation even if it held no competition to tantalizing lines in Crowley’s figure. But most importantly he was afraid that Crowley would notice the changes, start asking questions and make unnecessary revelations. That he couldn’t afford.

“Angel, come on, help me with this!”

Crowley’s voice dragged him out of his rather miserable thoughts and he joined the demon at the back of the Bentley. Crowley had his hand on the hips and was looking at the watermelon.

“There’s no way I’m going to drag this thing anywhere further than ten metres,” he said.

“Well,” Aziraphales looked at the beach and saw it was crowded at 5 p.m. “If only these people had something more interesting to do at home…” he waved his hand.

Suddenly, everyone started to gather their belongings and rushed away.

Crowley looked at it with crossed arms and a puzzled expression.

“What was that for? I mean I don’t mind people leaving, encourage it even, but still, why?”

“Because,” another wave of a hand. “Now _we_ get to follow the watermelon. Look, it’s already waiting for us there.”

Crowley turned his head and noticed that everything was arranged for them – a red tartan blanket with a basket next to it, and of course, the watermelon, sitting on the tip of the red cloth with its bald contrasting green.

“I wonder when you will stop surprising me,” Crowley said as he put his hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder and squeezed it affectionately. “Catch up.” He turned away and stepped in the sand.

Aziraphale put his own hand where Crowley’s was just seconds ago. He watched the demon’s unsteady pace, feet getting buried in the sand, the grains embracing him as one foot went down after the other. The image was hypnotizing. The sun was playing tricks with Crowley’s shoulder-length hair, Aziraphale always liked them long. Of course he preferred them like the first time they met in Eden – beautiful long locks, the very symbol of Crowley’s nature. Aziraphale could faintly remember one drunken night he told Crowley something about it and the next time they saw each other, Crowley returned to his pre-Apocalypse look when they both worked for the Dowlings. Aziraphale was pleasantly surprised and spent the whole day fantasizing Crowley doing it for him. He then got scared by his own thoughts and decided not to expand on them. Their lives were good as they were, why ruin it with awkward feelings? Back at the beach, Crowley looked back and waved his arm.

“Come on, angel, you’re magnificently slow!”

Aziraphale smiled and rushed towards the demon.

The day went by pretty quickly. That’s what usually happens when you enjoy yourself too much – you don’t even notice when it’s already over. Several bottles of red wine had been drained, all the tasty tidbits eaten. What was left was a tipsy angel and a demon together with their companion – the watermelon. The sun was already setting.

“Time to go, Aziraphale?”

Crowley’s sunglasses were long gone somewhere in the sand, he rubbed his eyes wearily.

“Wait, what about the watermelon!” Aziraphale was surprised by his own alacrity.

“Can’t it wait for some other occasion?” Crowley stretched his arms and slowly lay on his side.

“You must be joking, Crowley. You’re fully aware it will be spoiled tomorrow. It’s just too perfect to leave it now, and all the work that’s been done, and I…” Aziraphale started to get emotional and got lost for words. Crowley couldn’t fathom why the watermelon would be spoiled if Aziraphale was perfectly able to keep it in a nice condition for days, or what hard work he’d been talking about. But the angel was upset. That was all that mattered.

“Okay, okay, let’s eat it now. Do you have a knife?”

“Sure!”

Aziraphale beamed with joy and reached for the big knife in the basket. He passed it on to Crowley who sank the blade into the watermelon’s rind which gave in with a satisfying crack. Both of them immediately smelled the alluring sweet aroma. Crowley started parting it in halves, his muscles strained, veins becoming more visible. Aziraphale didn’t know if the excessive saliva in his mouth and quickened heartbeat were caused by the smell or the sight. Finally, the insides were revealed. The red pulp was specked with black seed, but most importantly, it was ripe and sugary.

“Nice job, angel! It really looks fucking nice,” Crowley nodded with a slightly drunk appreciation. “I don’t feel like slicing it, though.” He prepared to snap his fingers, but Aziraphale stopped him by grabbing his hands.

“I’d rather you slice it, dear.”

They were not particularly drunk, just a bit dizzy. It was not like they drank wine and ate and talked for the first time. It was something that had started in the afternoon with the wind, the sun, the sand and all the other elements that combined together in the feeling of freedom which, unbelievably, led to a tension in some body parts.

Crowley eyed Aziraphale in silence, suddenly more sober then his was seconds ago, more serious. He nodded and picked up the knife. He was holding one half in his hand while working the blade with the other. One, two, three, four thick slices. Four waving hand movements which made Aziraphale’s heart flutter. Crowley wanted to slice the other half, but Aziraphale, all serious too now, just shook his head and said dryly:

“Let’s eat.”

Crowley took one slice and handed it over to Aziraphale, then took one for himself. Aziraphale bit into the pulp and moaned quietly as his taste palettes burst with sweetness. Watermelon juice started to run down his chin as he took another bite. He wasn’t looking at Crowley now, who was capturing every move, every sound he made.

Crowley was surprised by a sudden change of mood, but it dawned on him that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t the watermelon that Aziraphale was so eager about. The angel’s cheeks were pink, he stopped eating and looked at Crowley. The sweet liquid was now dripping from his chin, Aziraphale lifted a hand to wipe it off when Crowley became hungry for some watermelon too. Although the demon had already lost interest in his own slice, he now wanted to see how it tasted combined with the taste of an angel. There was no time to think, Aziraphale nearly reached his chin with his thumb, so Crowley darted forward and kissed the corner of the angel’s mouth. Aziraphale drew in a quick breath and froze. Crowley, his eyes closed, froze as well. Their mouths were an inch away from each other, now it was Aziraphale’s decision to make – push Crowley away or let him carry on. A few moments passed and nothing changed, Aziraphale’s hot breath was still enveiling his lips, so Crowley took it as a sign to continue. He placed another kiss, still avoiding the mouth. He then moved down a bit and gave Aziraphale a taste with his tongue. This movement finally made Aziraphale do something – moan. And not like he did with food, even a minute ago with the watermelon. It was pleasure and desperation combined.

Crowley’d never tried anything as sweet as this. His head started spinning as his tongue now was taking in more and more. He placed his hand on the back of Aziraphale’s head. When the sugary sweetness had gone and gave way to the raw taste of Aziraphale’s skin, Crowley had to take a moment to collect himself.

And that was when Aziraphale said _“Kiss me.”_

It wasn’t like Aziraphale cast a spell on Crowley, but the effect was magical and made Crowley lose control. He pushed Aziraphale down on his back and sat on top of him. He started kissing his face, everywhere he could think of – forehead, nose, cheeks, chin and, finally, their lips touched. Aziraphale was the first to open his mouth, inviting Crowley to explore and taste something even richer. Although everything Crowley wanted was to go as fast as possible as he couldn’t bear waiting any longer, he collected himself in order not to miss anything. He was pinning Aziraphale to the ground with his body weight as if claiming his right to do as he pleased. Their tongues were getting to know each other, drawing more moans from the angel, making the last bits of Crowley’s self-control disappear.

Crowley opened one eye to check if Aziraphale had closed his and saw a pair of two eyes firmly shut, only the lashes fluttering.

What a sight.

He decided to give the angel some breathing space and left his lips alone. Aziraphale wanted to protest, but Crowley put a finger to his lips. He started unbuttoning Aziraphale’s shirt. It felt like a ritual, something holy and deeply meaningful. One button after another. When Crowley was finished with the last one, he touched the angel’s soft skin and immediately felt the urge to cradle next to him and get lost in all the warmth. Only Aziraphale didn’t seem so happy – he turned his head away and sighed.

“What is it, angel?” Crowley asked?

Aziraphale chewed his lips and remained silent.

“Are you uncomfortable? Should I stop?”

“No!” Aziraphale protested. “It’s just… I know I’m a bit chubby, and, maybe you’re disappointed. I guess I indulge in pastry too much.”

“Hold this thought until later, see if you still find it relevant. By the way, I’m pretty hungry myself.”

Crowley reached for the watermelon and buried his fingers in the untouched half. He took a handful of pulp and squeezed it right above Aziraphale. Drops of pink juice fell on his chest and stomach like rain on a meadow.

Crowley shook his head and smiled. “What a mess.”

He lowered and began licking everything off. Starting with chest and two perfectly round and soft nipples, which became hard after meeting his tongue.

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale uttered.

“Perfect. Angel.”

Crowley was kissing his way down to the belly. He felt he was granted access to the finest winery. He was now trying a sweet, full-bodied bottle with watermelon aftertaste. Aziraphale’s belly was undulating, rocking Crowley up and down.

The picture was beautiful – an angel on his back and a demon, covering his holy body with dirty kisses. A splash of red on a white cloud, the sign of dusk, of secrets revealed, of hunger one only feels after the Sun crosses the threshold and leaves two lovers alone until morning. Crowley and Aziraphale could stop now, leave the most exciting for later. They could part, clean everything up, get in the Bentley and see what would happen in Crowley’s flat at night. After all, they weren’t teenagers, eager to know what love and lust is, hiding from everyone, experiencing their own sexuality. Well, at least we know they weren’t teenagers. As for the other things…

Crowley cupped Aziraphale’s crotch and that’s when he knew there was no stopping or waiting.

“May I?” he asked.

Aziraphale just nodded with his eyes closed.

Crowley’s hand snaked inside the angel’s pants and took hold of Aziraphale, who drew in a quick breath, kept still for a moment and then let his emotions show by moaning loudly. Crowley found himself enjoying not only the act itself, but the game the two of them seemed to be playing. Now weren’t they? He started moving his hand up and down slowly, enjoying the length and thickness. He looked at Aziraphale and saw him lying with his eyes closed and mouth slightly open. It wouldn’t hurt to go a bit faster, Crowley thought. He felt like it would be unfair to exclude one party that started it all, so he let go, took some more watermelon pulp, squeezed it again until his hand was soaking wet and continued with stroking.

“Crowley…” Aziraphale exhaled.

“Mmm?”

“I want your mouth on me.”

“Finally, we’re on the same page.”

Aziraphale still tasted like watermelon, in all honesty, they were both pretty sticky by now, but nobody cared about it. Crowley was struggling with all his hair sneaking into his mouth and sticking to his cheeks, but it wasn’t a big distraction. The next moment Crowley felt Aziraphale’s hand in his hair, collecting all the stray locks in a tail and holding onto it. This simple gesture echoed with love filling Crowley from the top of his head to his toes. He quickened his pace and soon Aziraphale was washed with pleasure, making even a bigger mess of them.

They were both still lying, breathing quickly and trying to wrap their heads around what had just happened.

Crowley snapped his fingers and made all the mess disappear. He sat straight, looked at Aziraphale and smiled. The angel wasn’t ready to sit up yet, he was also smiling and his cheeks were adorably pink. Aziraphale reached out for Crowley’s hand and took it, entwining their fingers.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“That’s the last thing I expected to hear,” Crowley chuckled. “For my service?”

“Don’t be rude, dear. At least not now.”

Crowley didn’t want to be rude or sarcastic, but as the first wave of passion washed off and silence was broken, he felt insecure. What if Aziraphale’s desire to kiss him was driven by his hedonistic nature and nothing else? In a way, he guided Crowley through the whole act, expressed his lust for Crowley’s kisses and more, but what was going to happen next?

“What I wanted to say…” Aziraphale sat up and faced Crowley, “I mean, I’m grateful… No, this is still coming out wrong.”

Aziraphale looked away and took a deep breath.

“I’ve never felt so much love in my life. And I’d never have thought that you, you feel this way about me.”

Crowley cleared his throat. “Have been for the last eternity.”

“Me too, darling.”

Crowley chuckled with a shake of his head.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re telling me that we had mutual feelings for each other and waited this long?”

“Well…”

“Me, yeah, I’m an impossible idiot when it comes to feelings. Not very good with them. But you, so smart, so angelic. Couldn’t you see it in everything I did? Love’s your specialty after all.”

Crowley touched Aziraphale’s hair and started playing with a curl.

“I was too insecure and I always found a perfectly innocent explanation to your, now I can call them that, acts of love.”

“But now you know?”

“Now I know. And do you?”

“Me too.”

They embraced each other and Crowley buried his nose in the curve of Aziraphale’s neck. He smelled of something breathtakingly sweet. This time no watermelon was included. Crowley opened his eyes and noticed a hermit crab in the sand getting out of the shell to change it for a bigger one.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This was my first attempt at writing anything that can be tagged as explicit or mature. I tend to stick to gen or M/M comedy writing, but sometimes you just got to blow the steam off, right? ;)
> 
> Thank you, Harry Styles.
> 
> Not a native speaker.


End file.
